April 10, 2016

bi-valve eternal macabre-sticky bitten plastic ................................................................................#NaPoWriMo2016

if I were to die 
in your arms 
would you 
cremate me 
in the setting Sun
a burnt offering 
poem set atop as tall 
a funeral pyre 
as they would let you make 
when wading goodbye's 
spiritual undertows 

the observant co-valents 
flag currents back to merry 
sew gather all your sisters 
and undergarment-less-ly
dance beneath 
a shine waxing Moon 
(if only the clouds 
could be made 
to behave)...

and after night 
palls with dew 
take thee ashes  
to the headwaters 
of the Hudson 
for this is a place 
souls go to seek 
another life's bones 
here the world speaks 
in whisper tomes 
through worn 
scrab-bled scarab 
cared scaring scarred  
life in a river town 
full of thieves 
a hustle breezy...

eulogies are 
a tooth and shale 
granite and clay witnessing
of what we've given to rain 
our consciousness 
our imperceptible(s) 
these molecular level 
gyrations of time 
and season  
over and over 
when we become 
language ispoem arch 
and ache 
land people-d
with absolution(s) 
reach need 
inherit-ed sky 
and oceans...

and so when fallen 
from these legs 
one last time 
telling your story 
look for lore, seed
bodies and scent 
tied to synesthesia
a colourform-ed 
packing and unpacking 
of both, the monsters 
and bright ones 
you filled forests 
of oaks, elms, pines 
and maples with...

have the listen-er, 
clawing for a why here 
pause and smile there 

purposely show them
you still collect  
all the cones 
and a few odd mushrooms 
set to dry 
with earlier found 
carried calm-
pocketing stones 
ghost ballast  
lighting a way 
home through 
the trees...

lab coat 
to doctor 
plead pleas 
p stab
 t-tabla coal 
rote down 
your name 
at the end 
of the poem 

Per se ph one 

yes bless-ed me this for instance bleeds 
with broken meant to mend anyways 
April tenth has: 
a briny taste of shallow seas and marsh reed 
captures of daylight in tiny tide roars 
skimming amphibian 
and flight-ed things 
dare scoop hungry 
loud mouths, shrill roars  
when the inlets recede


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